


Letters To A Dead King

by StarkAstarte



Series: Once and Future Husbands [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Death, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Love Letters, Love and Longing, M/M, Post Camlann, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:26:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkAstarte/pseuds/StarkAstarte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin writes letters to Arthur across the ages. He folds them into little paper boats and sends them across the Lake of Avalon. Little does he know that there’s a Postal Service in the Summerlands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Letter One: Midsummer, 537 AD

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OwnThyself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwnThyself/gifts).



  __

_Midsummer, 537 AD_

_To My King--_

 

_You died today._

_I failed you._

_I’ve never done that, before._

_I still can’t quite believe it, though I hear your final words ringing in my ears like warning bells in the darkest of night. I’m sitting here by the lake that takes you away from me. I’m still waiting for you to speak again. Something tells me I always will be._

_Your blood still stains my hands. There was so little, I could hardly believe it was a mortal wound. That you could actually die. **You** , Arthur. The Once and Future King. Was I so stupid I didn’t really notice the threat inherent in that title? To be **once** is to have been lost. To be **future** is to have need of rising again. The Once and Future King must therefore die to live. But when, Arthur? That’s the question I may never live long enough to have answered. I should have asked more questions. I should have demanded more answers. Instead I ran blindly through vast thickets filled with brambles and thorns. I thought I was so clever. I have never been less so. And because of my stupidity, despite repeated warnings from all the forces of light and life, I lost you. I might as well have thrown you away._

_Thank you, you said. For the first and last time. Arthur. My King. My love. You’ve never had less to thank me for._

_I must go back to the Citadel. I must tell everyone. The King is Dead, they will say. Long Live the Queen. I will say it, too. But I will never believe it, not if I live to be a thousand years old and beyond. The only monarch to whom I will truly bend my knee is you, Arthur. Though I swear on my life I will help her in any way I can. Camelot will be as sand in her fingers, but I will hold her hands in mine for as long as I can, until the very last granule is spilt and the walls of the Citadel crumble to dust and I am left standing alone in the rubble._

_I can never be more alone than I am now._

_If only I could hold you for a little while longer. Just one more time._

_If only I needn’t push you away, still warm, your lips barely pale._

_We never said the word 'love' between us, Arthur. But I am saying it now, because you can’t stop me. I loved you from the moment I first saw you though I swore it was hate. I must have loved you even before I met you. I love you now that you are gone, and I will love you long after I am._

_Come back, Arthur. For me. Swear you will. Swear._

_I’ll wait here to the end of time._

_For I am yours. Born to serve you even after I have buried you._

_I swear to you, you will rise again. You will. And I will be here to greet you._

_Your faithful, foolish servant, to the end--_

_Merlin._


	2. Letter Two: Wintertide, 539 A.D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin makes a confession to the ghost he loves now more than ever.

 

  
[ ](http://www.google.ca/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=1nGt2JccNz7aiM&tbnid=_PSUb0vHQg9gUM:&ved=0CAUQjRw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fdijoh2o.wordpress.com%2Fcategory%2Fknowledge-sharing%2F&ei=bMMfUvLfOKnHigK83IDIDQ&bvm=bv.51495398,d.cGE&psig=AFQjCNFkMx8yGmSlVPbUNk_WeimHw4_t0Q&ust=1377899733364052)

 

_Wintertide, 539 A.D_

_My King—_

_I never knew it, but she loved me once. Before she was your queen. And now that she’s your widow, she loves me again. It’s only a little love, a brief flame, the kind that makes a strong friendship deeper, fonder. The kind that makes the long nights shorter, warmer. Less terrifying. The Citadel is empty without you, Arthur. Gwen and I huddle together against the darkness when the candles are all blown out and the day feels like it will never come. When we touch, we come alive. We who are dead inside without you._

_I long for you, Arthur. And I wait. In the meantime, I keep your wife warm and safe, and I love her the way that I can. It’s enough for her, and for me, when we thought we might never feel anything ever again._

_Please don’t be angry. You’re always here, with us. Between us. We reach for you and grasp each other. We always leave room enough for your ghost._

_Ever your servant, the sorcerer who loves you and cannot die—_

_Merlin._


End file.
